


A Flicker in Eternity

by BrittleMoth



Series: Flipping off Our Days of Revelation [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Character death isn't permanent, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi Chapter, Slow Burn, at least for the first chapter, for future chapters, with the hurt being first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittleMoth/pseuds/BrittleMoth
Summary: This takes place before the events of Forgotten RosaryDeidara is forced to face the more agonizing side of his art when he is informed of Sasori's death after the extraction of the One Tailed Beast. This leaves him with a hollow victory and an empty reality where he is alone with his truth. Alone with his Sasori no Danna.Just a heads up for those who didn't read Forgotten Rosary: Sasori is alive in that fic so he will be back. Only after some agonizing contemplation from Deidara and disgruntled assistance from the Zombie Combo!





	A Flicker in Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic with Sasori and Deidara as well as my first multi chapter fic so I'm excited to see how it all turns out! Just a heads up this first chapter will be a very slow burn, so please keep that in mind. I hope you enjoy!

Deidara was able to maintain coherence despite getting his arms getting torn off.

His banter with that annoying ass wannabe Tobi was proof of that.

He liked to chalk it up to his inner strength and endurance, yet in the back of his mind he knew the truth was it was simply adrenaline.

The truth came down upon him soon enough as he stared ahead in an insurmountable stupor while Kakuzu reattached his arms.

He barely registered Kakuzu grumbling in annoyance at him, whether it was about his lack of skill, the position he put Kakuzu in, or just blowing off steam as Hidan ranted just outside their room he wasn’t too sure.

It was like trying to catch fireflies with his bare hands. 

He knew he could get a few, but there were so many others that went by unseen.

The pain was heightened as Kakuzu put in each thread precisely, which only amplified his pain as his senses in his arms returned.

It was as if his arms were punishing him for letting them get cut off and now he had to bare all the pain they endured.

This dull agony was enough to push Deidara’s mind further from awareness than he usually would like. 

The light thwack on the back of his head from Kakuzu did nothing to help, nothing to stir him.

It seemed the miser hated being ignored as much as Hidan at times, not that anyone would ever point it out aside from the priest himself.

His mind flickered to memories of when he was younger. 

 

He had always been a rather quiet kid, not the kind you would expect to suddenly turn gleeful terrorist.

But most people didn’t understand him.

He had always felt things were just of his grasp, like he could never get a firm foothold on anything.

 

From history lessons in that boring, thoughtless academy to relationships with his peers.  
None lasted.

He had fought hard against this reality for a time, wanting to prove the world wrong. Wrong on what point? He wasn’t sure but all he knew was that the world had issued him a silent challenge and he would meet him.

Then he joined the bombing squad in his village and everything unfurled and came together at once.

Their squad leader had taken in interested recruits, Deidara had been assigned out of a lack of interest in any particular area, and the young blonde had initially paid little heed to the words of his leader.

Those words never made sense to him, they were always inconsistent in the end.

While he was fixated on this disgruntled thought he brought into a shocking awareness.

Bang

As all the new recruits clammered to ask questions he just stood there with his eyes wide and grin slowly working it’s way on his face.

“It all makes sense.” He told himself softly, ignoring the glares of some of the others who assumed Deidara was insulting their questions.

None of that mattered. 

Nothing mattered, not in the way the world tried to put out.

Permanency was obsolete, an impossibility like the moon’s position in the sky.

Things came and went, but none would stay.

He let out a chuckle ‘It all leaves. The world isn’t challenging me, it is teaching me!’ 

All he had seen and experienced culminated in this one moment.

And vanished just as easily.

The world’s greatest beauty lied in its greatest truth: All would come to an end, and the sharper and brighter it is, the more beautiful it became.

Deidara never bothered explaining this revelation to his peers, who he inevitably gotten closer with over time.

You didn’t share near death experiences with people and come out on the other end feeling nothing after all.

 

But no one could understand like he did. The world made sure they didn’t.

They were so placated by the lies of eternity that they were blinded.

And he would awaken them. He would shock the world into the truth if it was the last thing he would do.

So he left his village in a trail of explosions and shouts of the truth.

He didn’t expect them to understand, not while they were caught up in the aftermath and not the moment his brilliance took place.

It didn’t matter, he was on his way to a path of truth, of enlightenment.

Art. That is what he would call it.

If he couldn’t label it as truth, he would call it art. They were one in the same for now.

They stirred the mind in the same way and shook people to their core. 

One could only imagine his dismay at being assigned a partner like Sasori.

Initially he had been unable to accept the other as an artist.

It simply couldn’t be. These two truths couldn’t exist.

An instant and eternity couldn’t both be the truth.

Yet his partner seemed to have the same view of him and their debates went from lighthearted banters to near fights.

Nothing like the battles between Kakuzu and Hidan.

No this was a battle meant be fought without fists, kunai, or ninjutsu.

Deidara had come to the realization over time that as much as he showed Sasori his art and as much as he watched the other artist, which he begrudgingly began to call him, that they would never budge.

And much to his surprise, Deidara loved it.

It was bright and intense as his art, peaking in an instant and disappearing into an unseeable lull depending on the situation.

He could never accept eternity as the truth of this world, but he could accept Sasori’s faith in it.

 

He was infatuated with that faith, there was no other way about it.

“Danna…” He murmured as he came back to awareness.

Ah. The battle with those Hidden Leaf shinobi. The extraction of the One Tailed Beast. Sasori and he separating to divide up their opponents.

It all came rushing in like the sharp burning in his nearly reattached limb.

“If you call me that again I’ll kill you.” Kakuzu told him firmly, fixing him with a glare.

Hidan threw back his head in a mocking guffaw.

Deidara would have flinched back if he wasn’t caught up in that single thought, much like a shocking explosion.

He hadn’t noticed Hidan come back inside, and entirely missed his noncommittal promise to Kakuzu to not interrupt.

Sasori, why hadn’t he joined them?

“No...hmm.” He began slowly, stiffening up as Kakuzu looked ready to remove his arms once again as it seemed Deidara was responding to his ‘request.’

“Sasori no Danna.” He finished quickly, and he was relieved to see the ire leave Kakuzu’s oddly colored eyes.

Though he couldn’t be sure he was entirely in the clear. Kakuzu’s face was obscured as usual.

Hidan gave him is typical cocky grin “Huh? No one told your dumbass?”

Deidara turned to stare blankly at Hidan, and if they weren’t trained in reading expression they would have believed the expression was emotionless. No it was tight, like it was barely holding itself together.

“Shut up.” Kakuzu growled out, turning to glare at his careless partner “We don’t have time-”

“Told me?” Deidara asked flatly, which only seemed to ignite Hidan despite Kakuzu’s warnings, which he usually ignored anyways.

Hidan fixed him with an apologetic look, a surely mocking one at that “Sasori got his ass taken out by his grandma and another kunoichi from the Hidden Leaf.”

Hidan continued despite Kakuzu getting up and making his way over to drag him out “He didn’t manage to take either of them out.”

Kakuzu grabbed Hidan by the back of his cloak and sunk some of his tendrils tightly around his neck, burning the skin ever so slightly.

The Jashinist shouted in protest, barely able to croak much out as Kakuzu forced him along like a disobedient dog on a leash.

Before Kakuzu threw him out though Hidan was able to get in some last words “Hey, at least you know your art bullshit was better now!”

Deidara had looked down at his hands during that whole ordeal.

It was like they weren’t his anymore. He had to actively think about moving them.

He trusted Kakuzu did it right of course, he just hadn’t finished thanks to taking the time to deal with Hidan.

The zombie combos heated argument fell upon deaf ears as Deidara stared at his hands, his mind quickly fading into that place.

“No, this isn’t…” he trailed off, protesting Hidan’s last words despite the other not being able to hear him “isn’t a win.” 

He finished weakly as his mind scrambled to make sense of this.

Yet as Kakuzu came back in, chest heaving after exerting himself so much to fight Hidan, and finished up his word expertly he wasn’t able to gain any bearing.

Because Hidan was right.

Sasori, who toted about eternity being the truest form of art, had died.

His immortal form was now a husk and Sasori was scattered to the wind much like the many villages Deidara enlightened with his art.

And Deidara discovered and felt the shocks of his death in an instant.

It overcame him in a sudden wave of heat.

He was angry at Sasori for not fighting hard enough, despite not knowing the details of the fight. He was angry at himself for agreeing to separate in the first place even if he knew their fighting styles rarely paired well on the battlefield.

He felt the rage and hate at the Hidden Leaf and Sand. 

The Kazekage lost his fight and he was dead, why did they bother giving chase?

This was a useless fight all around and only satisfied their egos as far as Deidara was concerned.

Then duller, colder aches rolled over him.

Disappointment in Sasori not returning from that encounter and his art’s failure in the end. 

But the hardest one to take, the disappointment that bordered outright grief, was that it was over.

All those late night banters, frustrated words quipped with a begrudging respect, and cool mutual stance to agree to disagree was all gone.

‘You knew this would happen. It’s the only thing you ever knew.’

He tried to tell himself. They were missing nin and members of the Akatsuki, their lives were more in danger now than any other line of work. 

All of this left him with a hollow victory. One that he shared with no one.

Just as he was when he was a child, something Sasori asserted he still was, he was alone with his truth.

He mumbled a quiet thanks to Kakuzu and stumbled out without another word after the immortal was finished with him.

He ignored Kakuzu pressing him with a shout that he would pay Kakuzu back at some point. The immortal duo had been coming close to a steep bounty when Pain called them in.

“I will.” Deidara said again, not caring if Kakuzu could hear him. If Kakuzu would kill him for the blatant disregard.

Deidara walked slowly outside of the hideout they had used for this. The Akatsuki had many spread out aside from the main place where they sealed the Tailed Beasts.

“I will.” He said more firmly up to the slowly brightening sun as a new day began.

He hadn’t wanted to join the Akatsuki like most of its members initially.

But here he was able to show his art was true, his art would surpass all else.

Because nothing lasted, and this belief finally proved the immortal artist, along with the rest of the Akatsuki, wrong.

In this group Deidara’s art, his truth, was put to the test and it succeeded.

Deidara dropped his Akatsuki cloak and signature ring onto the cold ground, where small patches of grass peaked out from the rocks.

And he left the Akatsuki without a word.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual this went on longer than I thought haha. But I felt this was a nice way to end the chapter and leave some room for later. I don't expect this fic to go further than another chapter or two, so I hope you will stick around for that. Thank you for the time you took to read this and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day/afternoon/evening!


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